More Than This
by divakat
Summary: A bit of angst post season 3 finale. Originally rated M for safety but I never went there so I downgraded the rating to T.
1. Prologue

**I've been writing too much fluff lately and I needed to go kinda agsty. Not to mention, I LOVE agsty Gillian.**

**This fic was inspired by the song of the same title by Roxy Music. Yeah, I'm that old ;-)**

**I don't own Lie To Me but if I did I would ask Tim to pull the blankets up to my chin and tuck me in every night as part of his contract. Perhaps read me a bedtime story as well. With smut in it...**

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The rain fell unrelentingly. Droplets falling beneath the collar of his coat had turned to streams that soaked his neck and back. Rain plastered his hair to his head and ran in rivulets down his cheeks; dripped off his eyebrows and the tip of his nose. He shivered with the chill but stood firm, eyes glued to the picture window as the subject of his attention closed her laptop computer and rose from her couch. She stretched as she walked to the window and looked out into the gloomy night, locking eyes with him as anger, frustration, and just the slightest hint of pity played across her features before she firmly drew the curtains, blocking his view.

He waited until the apartment went completely dark, then he waited just a little longer, reassuring himself that she had well and truly turned in for the night. He walked to his car, parked in plain sight next to the walk, and climbed in. He watched her windows for the space of several heartbeats before he finally started the ignition, waiting for heat to replace the cool air pumping from the vents.

The pity was new.

He'd been watching her apartment openly each night for the past week. In the beginning she'd shown only disgust; tried telling him to go home and even threatened to call the police when he didn't leave. For the past four days she simply ignored him, going about her night even though she knew he was outside.

Waiting.

He'd waited seven days now. He would wait for as long as it took for her to finally break.


	2. Chapter 1

**Enjoy!**

_**Don't own it!**_

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**Eight days before**

Cal struggled to emerge from the foggy grip of a vivid dream, dragged to the surface by the steady buzzing of his cell phone as it vibrated on the nightstand. He reached for the offending black case, nearly knocking it to the ground as he flailed in the darkness.

"This had better be good," he drawled groggily into the receiver.

"Lightman?" he heard Wallowski's voice inquire from the other end.

"Tad early in the morning for a bit of how's your father isn't it Shazzah?" He was slowly beginning to wake.

"Stop thinking with you cock for one minute Cal. I have a…situation that needs your attention. Can you meet me at the 12th precinct down in the district in about half an hour?" There was something in her voice that he couldn't identify. He would almost swear she was concerned about him.

"This isn't something that can wait till business hours?" He was beginning to become alarmed.

"This isn't business, it's personal." She took a deep breath, "Lightman…it's Foster. They've arrested her."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." He said, already flinging himself out of bed as he hung up.

He was certainly awake now.

* * *

Wallowski met him outside the precinct doors, trying to head off his inevitable explosion.

"Where is she?" he demanded. His eyes were wild and he looked like he would blow the very roof off the building if he didn't get an answer.

"Cal, you have to calm down. I can't deal with both of you in lockup right now." She grabbed his arm, attempting to hold him back, but he shook her off.

"Where's Gillian?" His voice was ice. She'd never heard him take this tone, even when his own life was on the line.

"She's fine Cal. They're holding her for drunken disorderly but they'll release her as a favor to me so that you can take her home." She blocked his entry into the building. "Now promise me before we go in there that you can keep it together."

He took a deep breath, raking his hands through his hair as he paced the steps like a caged animal. When he looked back at her, some of the feral look had left his eyes and she could tell he was at least making an effort.

"She's drunk?" He stopped pacing for a moment.

Wallowski snorted, "Oh, yeah. She got in a catfight with some woman over cutting in line in the bathroom. Took two bouncers to break it up. The woman wanted to press charges for assault but the cops that responded talked her out of it. She's a little roughed up but it's nothing a good night's sleep won't cure. I would not like to be her in the morning."

Cal stared at her wide eyed as she described Gillian's behavior. "I'm sorry, you said she got in a fight? Foster? Are you sure they arrested the right person?"

"Oh, it's definitely her. They found my card in her purse so they called me. She was certainly not happy to see me I can tell you that." She changed her tone, "You need to watch her Cal. I've seen people I care about go down the road Gillian's on. It's not pretty."

He looked at his shoes and when he lifted his head again, he looked…broken.

"I don't know what to do for her. She blames herself for Claire's death somehow. She feels like she should have been able to stop it, or that if she hadn't gotten involved it never would have happened at all. You've seen people go down that road? Well, I've been there myself and I almost didn't find the way back. She's always been there for me, you know? She just instinctively knew which wire to cut to keep me from self destructing. I wish it were that easy for me to help her." His voice trailed off.

"Just stay with her and watch her like you always do. She'll make it." She put a hand to his shoulder. "She's luckier than she knows to have you watching over her," she said wistfully.

He was silent for a moment before he straightened. "Well, first things first; I have to get her out of this place right now."

* * *

Cal walked down the block of holding cells, Wallowski trailing a respectful distance behind. He winced when he saw Gillian, perched on the edge of a fold down cot, head cradled in her hands. She wore a silver sequined dress with a neckline that plunged far lower than any he had ever seen her wear. The bottom of the dress rode up to reveal an alarming amount of her shapely thigh and he could see that her panty hose had been ripped in several places. Her hair was a mess, she had some scratches on her neck, and it looked as though she had lost an earring in the scuffle. In short, she was a hot mess.

"Gillian," he said softly.

She raised her head from her hands and he could see her try to focus on him. She was wearing far more makeup than usual and mascara had run beneath her eyes. After a few failed attempts, she got to her feet, weaving slightly to the side in her silver heels. Grasping the bars of the cell, she pressed her face close against them.

"Cal," she smiled blearily, "I am so glad to see you. They said I had too much to drink, but they don't know what they're talking about. I think I had just…enough." She reached through the bars and poked his chest.

Her breath nearly knocked him down. She smelled as though she'd been drinking whiskey by the bottle. "Wallowski here has arranged for them to let me take you home, darling."

Wallowski stepped forward and unlocked the cell, letting the door swing wide. Gillian glared at her.

"Don't think I don't know…you know…what you did." She pointed a bobbing finger toward Wallowski. "And I know how bad you want to get your dirty little cop hooks into my business partner, but let me tell you right now; it's never going to happen so just…you know… back off." She sauntered out of the cell continuing to give Wallowski the evil eye.

Cal took off his jacket and draped it around her, noting the nearly backless cut of her dress. He wrapped his arm around her middle for support and glanced over his shoulder at Wallowski, throwing her a grateful look he was sure she understood.

With no few stumbles he got Gillian outside and safely tucked in his car. When he climbed into the driver's side she smiled drunkenly at him. "So we're not actually going home are we? I want to go out and have fun. I want to live every minute 'cause you know…you never know when this minute could be your last right?" she slurred.

"I think you might have lived enough for tonight, love. Why don't you just let me get you tucked into bed and we can talk about living in the morning."

"You're no fun." She pouted, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "You're party pooper Lightman. I want crazy reckless devil-may-care Lightman. Can he come out to play?"

"Sorry, love, not tonight. I'm afraid devil-may-care Lightman is otherwise occupied." He was completely thrown by this side of her.

They spent the rest of the car ride in silence. Gillian stared out her window and Cal stared at the road ahead of them, counting the miles to her doorstep.

When they finally arrived, she got out of the car before he even turned the ignition off. Her gait seemed to be somewhat steadier but she still nearly tripped up the stairs.

He followed her, half expecting her to slam the door in his face. Instead when he entered the house she was nowhere to be seen. "Gillian?" He called out to her. "Everything alright?"

"In here," he heard her voice from the bedroom.

He walked slowly down the hall and peered around the corner. She had her hand at the back of her dress, reaching for the tiny clasp.

"Will you help me with this? I can't quite reach it," she purred at him.

He didn't like where this was going. Normally an opportunity to sneak at a peak at her unmentionables would have been right up his alley, but in her current state she was like wet dynamite. He stepped up and quickly tugged at the closure as the dress nearly slipped from her shoulders. "I'll wait in the living room." He began to back away. He was still a man who liked an eyeful and he couldn't resist letting his eyes coast over Gillian's freckled shoulders and naked back.

"Will you tuck me in?" she asked in a pouty tone.

"What are you trying to accomplish here, love?"

She turned quickly, her dress slipping to the ground, leaving her clad only in her black lace panties. "What do you think?" she asked as she closed the distance between them.

Cal tried desperately to control his more primal urges, willing himself to keep his eyes on her face. As she pressed up against him he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, holding her back. "I think you don't know what you're doing right now," he said through gritted teeth.

She shook him off, her hands darting to the closure of his jeans as she roughly grasped his cock which had responded of its own accord to her nakedness. "I know you want me Cal. I can feel it." She stroked him and leaned in, placing her mouth against his, her tongue crashing against his tightly closed lips.

He grabbed the hair at the back of her neck, twining his fingers before he pulled back, not hurting her, but forcing her to quit her assault. "I think if you wake up in the morning and want me then I'm all in, but for tonight I'm saying no." He searched her eyes, looking for any sign that she understood he meant every word before he released her.

"You're saying 'no'? What about what I want, Cal? Doesn't it ever get to be about what I want? For years it was about what my father wanted, then it was about what Alec wanted and for the last eight years it's always been about what you wanted Cal." She spat her words at him in anger, breaking out of his grasp. She grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it on, finally covering her breasts.

"What is it you want, exactly?" he asked, his voice controlled.

"More than this," she said coldly.

"Do you think you're going to find it at the bottom of a whiskey bottle Gill? Because let me tell you, I've looked and there's nothing there. How many times have you picked me up off the floor? Lain awake nights wondering if tonight will be the night you'll get that call; that call that says it's finally over, come down and identify the body. I found a lifeline Gillian, when it was almost too late and I love you far too much to stand by and watch you drown."

Her eyes blazed with anger. "I can't _believe _you. Where the hell do you get off giving lessons about self-preservation?"

"Did you hear me? I said I love you Gillian. I'm in _love _with you." His volume rose to match hers and he was nearly screaming the words at her.

"Well that's fucking inconvenient for you isn't it?" she scoffed. "Go home Cal."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly.

"Then at least get the hell out of my bedroom so I can go throw up in peace. I don't want to see you when I get up in the morning."She headed for her bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

He stood in the quiet of her room feeling as if she had just taken her fist to his gut. His only solace was the fact that she most certainly wasn't in her right mind at the moment. At least he hoped she wasn't.

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**There will most likely be more than this even later tonight...haha...get it :-)**


	3. Chapter 2

**As promised...**

**Just 2 chapters and maybe and epilogue after this so not long to wait.**

**Alas, I still don't own Lie To Me or any of its characters...just sayin'**

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He was gone before she woke the next morning. He'd stood outside her bedroom door for what felt like hours, listening for any sound of her stirring within. He had raised his hand to knock more than once before he finally turned away.

Writing a note seemed like a good idea; at least a starting point, but when he'd sat down to put pen to paper nothing seemed adequate. He'd pulled out a bottle of aspirin from her cabinet and left it sitting on the counter next to a glass of water and put on his coat, closing her front door quietly on his way out.

He'd waited all day for his phone to ring; willed it to ring.

It hadn't.

That was the first night he began watching her, and he had been there every night since.

Their first day back at the office had been…tense.

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She wasn't there.

Her office looked as if it was completely untouched which wasn't like her. Normally she had brewed a pot of coffee and selected the best, most sugar coated donut before he strolled in casually at half past eight. This morning she was nowhere to be seen. There was no scent of her wafting through the hallways either, which convinced him that she was well and truly absent.

Two hours later and he had buried himself in paperwork. After getting their heads bitten off three or four times, Loker and Torres had learned to let him stay barricaded in his office. He looked up as the door opened again, preparing a scathing death threat for whomever had dared to disturb him this time. He snapped his mouth shut as Gillian strode in.

She looked stunning in a tailored skirt suit that hugged every curve. There wasn't a hair out of place on her head but he could see the heavy makeup she had caked beneath her eyes, trying to conceal dark circles.

"We need to talk about the Powers case," she said gruffly.

"I'm fine thank you very much, and how was your weekend?" he asked, trying to draw her out of her business as usual demeanor.

She looked at him with eyes that pierced him like sharp steel. "I was hoping we could leave your psychotic stalking behavior out of the workplace."

"Oh come on Foster, you couldn't possibly have believed that would happen," he smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"Fine. We have a business to run and to do that we have to have a certain amount of interaction and communication but until you stop guarding my front door each night like a sheepdog, that's where it ends." Her voice was cold.

"So I should try to forget how you looked in those sexy black panties then?" he pushed her, forcing her toward any response other than her currently frigid one.

"You know that line that we talk about Cal? The one you're sick and tired of me talking about?" She leaned over his desk, placing her palms flat against the wooden surface.

"You'd like me to respect it?"

"No," she replied flatly. "I'd like you to imagine that it's now a brick wall." She turned and walked out of his office.

* * *

She seemed to be avoiding him as best she could. She set up meetings with potential clients which required her to be out of the office for extended periods. When she couldn't avoid him she went to pains to ensure that they weren't in a room alone together.

Not that having other people around stopped him. He pushed her every chance he got; got in quick jabs and stinging remarks to keep himself under her skin. The very last thing in the world she needed right now was distance, unfortunately she was hurting too much to realize it.

The tension between them didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the office but he was surprised when it was Loker who finally had the balls to confront him about it.

"What are you doing about Foster?" Eli demanded, barging into his office.

"Excuse me? Did I forget to leave the 'Do Not Disturb' sign out for the help again?" He looked Loker up and down.

"I asked, 'What are you doing about Foster'." He stood firm.

"You want to be _very_ careful here," Cal said menacingly.

"Despite what you seem to think, I do actually know a thing or two about reading people Lightman. What I _know_ is that Dr. Foster is starting to come uncomfortably close to something very dangerous and what I _want _to know, is what in the hell kind of plan you have to deal with it." He placed his knuckles on the desk, removing them quickly when he saw Cal's expression.

Cal kept a tight rein on his reaction, refusing to give Loker the satisfaction of knowing that, at the moment, he was actually quite impressed by the display of bravado. "You think she's in trouble do you? Why's that exactly?" Cal asked carefully.

"She's been short and starring daggers at anyone who even expresses concern for her. She comes in late, stays out of the office most of the day, and when she does come back, she smells like she drank her lunch. The worst part is, when she thinks no one is looking, the only expressions I can read on her face are pain and sadness. In short; she's acting like you," he finished.

"Touché Loker." It was the only compliment he was willing to give. He fought with himself about how forthcoming to be with someone whose loyalty to him was sketchy at best. Finally he slumped down in his chair, leaning back to rest his head heavily against its back. "The truth is I don't have a bloody clue what to do for her. Right now the only plan I have is to be around so I can catch her when she finally decides to fall."

Loker was silent. Cal couldn't tell if he was trying to come up with something to add or was simply so stunned by the fact that Cal had confided in him that he was speechless. "Is there anything I can do?" he finally asked.

"What did you do for me when I was hell bent on self destruction?" Cal leaned forward in his chair.

"We stayed the hell out of the way and let Foster deal with you," Loker confessed.

"Well, then let's try that and see if it works." Cal said, letting Loker know that warm and fuzzy time was over.

"Understood." Loker started for the door. "You know if you change your mind though…there's nothing any of us wouldn't do to help her." His voice was level and there was no doubting the truth of his statement.

"As you were Eli." He watched as Loker nearly tripped at the sound of Cal using his Christian name. The office door closed behind Loker and suddenly Cal was alone again, his heart twisting in his chest at the thought of Gillian experiencing even a small percentage of the pain he had put himself through for so long. He wasn't sure how long he could simply stand by and wait.

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**Bit of action coming up in the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 3

**As promised!**

**Don't own Lie To Me or any of this...**

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Another night, and he stood with his feet glued to the pavement outside Gillian's apartment. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, trying to ignore the chill and the way his knees ached from standing still for so long. He wished he's at least thought to bring a chair, although it would somewhat reduce the dramatic effect.

She had been…different today. She was still avoiding him and calling her demeanor warm would be like calling the North Pole balmy. If anything she was, perhaps, less obviously disgusted with him. He caught her sneaking glances at him once or twice, her eyes contemplative.

Tonight she had disappeared into the bedroom area of her apartment for hours without a chance for him to catch a glimpse of her.

So he waited.

The chill air crept up his sleeves and under the tails of his coat and he shrugged his shoulders, willing his body not to shiver.

Movement within the apartment caught his eye. He groaned involuntarily at the sight of Gillian moving into the living room, obviously preparing to go out for the night. In a fitted red blouse unbuttoned to reveal a healthy amount of freckled cleavage and a tight short black skirt, she looked like she was on the hunt to get noticed by someone, and he doubted it mattered who. He realized it was going to be a very long night.

He watched as Gillian grabbed her purse and coat, flipping off the lights in her apartment before she emerged through the front door.

"Evening, love, out for a bit of fun are we?" he asked casually as she approached.

"I'm going out for the night if that's what you mean. I'd appreciate it if you went home and didn't try to follow me like some pathetic stalker," she said frostily.

"Oh, I think we both know that's not going to happen, darling. Why don't you let me take you out for dinner and a drink if you want a fun evening?"

"Oh, I think we both know that's not going to happen, _darling._" She snipped, walking past him to the cab which had just pulled up at the corner.

"When will it be enough Gillian?" he called after her.

She stopped momentarily and he saw her shoulders slump forward before she turned and slowly walked back to him. He could immediately see the change in her face as she approached. She had lost the frozen wall of disgust and replaced it with something that made his heart twist in his chest.

Her face was blank; utterly devoid of any emotion that he could read. She stood in front of him, hands at her sides. The emptiness in her eyes chilled him straight to his core.

"It will be enough when I can feel something more than emptiness when I look in the mirror every day," she said flatly.

"You're looking in the wrong place Gill, and what lies down that road is worse than emptiness, trust me on that, love. I love you and regardless of what you think you are not responsible for that girl's death. There was nothing you could have done. Think about all the lives you've saved; that we've saved together. Doesn't that mean anything to you? I won't stand by and watch you do this to yourself Gillian." He grabbed her arm but she shook him off, her eyes softening to the pitying look he had seen the night before.

"You don't have a choice Cal." She turned and walked away, sliding gracefully into the back seat of the cab.

"Bugger," he muttered under his breath as he ran to the street, noting the number of the cab as he jumped into his car and sped off after her.

* * *

The bar she chose was in an upscale part of town but the pounding base combined with the sheer mountainous size of the two bouncers poised outside the front door told him that it was likely this bar wasn't all lawyers and politicians.

Cal stalked up to the entrance and submitted to a pat down. He slipped the largest of the bouncers a fifty dollar bill and shot him a meaningful look.

"I'm looking out for a friend of mine who's in a bit of trouble. I trust you'll have no problem remembering who I am?" he said, trying to use confidence to make his five foot seven inch frame appear ten feet tall as he faced the brick wall of muscle in front of him.

"Yeah, you have one of those memorable faces." The brick wall growled as he ushered Cal inside.

The music filtered up a dark velvet lined staircase and as Cal descended he could feel the bass pumping through the walls.

The main club consisted of a small dance floor where well dressed men and women with drug-glazed eyes writhed to something that barely passed for music in his estimation.

There were plush, velvet covered booths recessed into the walls everywhere he looked and couples both young and middle aged groped each other over expensive looking cocktails. He didn't see Gillian immediately so he made his way to the bar, allowing his eyes to wander over the generous amount of skin displayed by women obviously on the prowl. Had he been interested in a one night stand he had no doubt he could walk out with ample entertainment for the evening.

He made his way to the bar and took up a seat next to an attractive dark-haired woman in her early forties who was sipping idly at a green martini while checking her watch. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye while he caught the bartender's attention.

"Yeah, can I get a Macallan, neat please?" He placed a 50 on the counter, "and another one of whatever she's drinking," he gestured to the woman next to him.

"That's very generous of you but I'm meeting someone." She turned toward him, re-crossing her legs in his direction.

"Oh, I think you and I both know that's a lie, love," he said as low as he could over the music. "How late is he?"

Her face fell. "Forty minutes," she sighed.

"Well, his loss then. Up yours." He raised the glass to her and took a slow sip of the peaty amber liquid, scanning the bar for Gillian as he did so.

"Maybe," the woman smiled slowly, raising her glass to her lips and looking at Cal with a predatory stare.

He spotted Gillian across the room. She was currently engaged in a close conversation with a man who looked to be in his mid forties with black hair, slicked back from his face neatly. He wore a dark blue button down shirt with a black blazer and the gold chain around his neck glittered from across the room. He was definitely not the type of man Gillian usually went for. He watched as she threw her head back, laughing at something the man had said, her hand rising to trail slowly down his chest as she inclined her body to his.

Cal drew his eyes away and brought them back to the woman in front of him who was now studying him over her cocktail.

"Who is she?" the woman asked, leaning forward to speak softly into his ear.

He pulled back from her, glancing at Gillian again before bringing his eyes to her face. "She's my business partner," he said steadily. "She's my best friend." He raised his glass to his lips letting the sting of the alcohol wash away the ache in his throat.

"Does she know?" the woman asked.

"Know what, love?" Cal looked down at the bar.

She leaned forward again and pressed her lips directly next to his ear. "Does she know that you're in love with her?"

His eyes drifted over to Gillian who was resting her head on her palm, her body turned fully toward the man in the suit who had placed a hand on her thigh. He ground his teeth together and turned back to the woman next to him, picking up his drink and knocking it back in one gulp. "I certainly hope so. Excuse me will you, love?"

Cal made his way across the bar slowly, sizing up Gillian's drinking partner as he did so. Something about the man didn't fit and he certainly didn't like the way he was openly leering at the woman he loved. There was a certain slant about the man's posture and body language that screamed violence to Cal and he was certain Gillian had bitten off more than she could chew. He watched as a scene began to unfold before his eyes.

The man moved his hand up Gillian's leg, tracing his fingers beneath the hem of her skirt before she quickly pushed it away, leaning back from him slightly. Cal picked up his pace as the man returned his hand to her thigh, pushing his hand higher despite her now obvious protests. She wriggled back from his grasp and he wrapped a thick hand around her upper arm. Cal could see the white marks from his grip from 20 feet away.

"Oi!" he cried at the top of his lungs, finally arriving at the table as Gillian struggled to get free of the man's grip. "I believe the lady is tired of your attentions mate, best to move on."

"Excuse me," the man said roughly, loosening his grip on Gillian's arm but refusing to let her go. "The lady and I were engaged in a negotiation of affections when she decided to be a little cock tease."

"It's okay Cal, I can handle this," Gillian piped in.

He thought he saw relief on her face at the sight of him but it was so mixed with fear and stubborn determination that he couldn't be sure. "I don't think you can, love."

"I think she just told you to fuck off, _mate._" The gorilla in the suit said angrily.

Cal watched him closely, this was a man with a serious anger management problem and his anger was very close to bordering on rage at the moment.

"Gillian, why don't you just let me take you home?"

"Who are you? Her fucking father? The lady said she's fine, aren't you, darling." The veins on his forehead popped out as he tugged at Gillian's arm.

"Actually," Gillian said, "I think I would like to go home. By myself," she added.

"You're going to let this bowlegged pip squeak stop you from having a good time?" The man growled, anger bubbling over.

Things were at a tipping point and if Cal didn't act quickly they were going to get out of hand. Gathering himself, he punched Gillian's newfound friend squarely in the jaw while his foot came up and simultaneously kicked him in the crotch. He grabbed Gill and dragged her to her feet as soon as the goon let go of her.

They made it perhaps fifty feet before he caught up with them, grabbing Cal's jacket and spinning him around. Cal ducked just in time and the man's fist flew through empty air, putting him off balance as Cal's knee connected with his stomach sending him to the floor doubled over in pain.

Cal quickly pulled Gillian up the stairs and out into the open air where he leaned over to catch his breath. He looked over at Gillian who was massaging her arm, staring blankly at the sidewalk. He moved over to her and placed his arm on her back, so happy to be able to make more than fleeting physical contact with her for the first time in eight days. "You okay Gill? Did he hurt you?"

She looked up at him with deadened eyes, obviously still trying to process what had just happened. "Can you just take me home and not say anything else? I just want to go home."

"Of couse, darling, of course. My car's in the garage around the corner. Can you make the walk?"

She nodded and they set off, walking quickly in the cold air. They took the stairs to the second floor of the parking garage. As Cal opened the passenger door for Gillian she spun around, throwing her arms around his neck. He felt her tears dampen his shoulder.

The sound of squealing tires nearby forced Cal to release her and as he looked up he saw that a black SUV had pulled up behind them and Gillian's new found friend from the bar was quickly coming around the car.

He shoved Gillian into the passenger seat. "Lock the doors," he instructed. He heard the locks click and barely had time to notice the flicker of light off the blade in the man's hand before pain exploded in his side. He had dodged to the side at the last moment but the sheeting agony sent him to his knees. A foot connected with his other side forcing all the breath from his body.

Distantly he heard the sound of Gillian's voice ordering the man to leave and he was momentarily concerned for her safety until he rolled over and saw her pointing a gun directly at the man's head. She must have crawled out the driver's side door because she came around Cal from behind, forcing the assailant to retreat to his own vehicle. The sound of his tires a moment later told Cal that he was gone.

He tried to get up but the world seemed to be spinning more rapidly suddenly. He put a hand to his right side and felt sticky wetness seeping through his shirt. Gillian was at his side instantly, pushing him down, cradling his head in her lap as she pressed her hand against his side.

"That was pretty handy work there, love," he said weakly, raising a hand to her face; regretful when he left a crimson streak across her cheek.

"Shhh…don't talk it will be okay. I'm calling the police right now." He heard the sound of her dialing her cell phone and talking to a 911 operator as he dropped his hand limply back to his chest. Christ his side hurt. It wasn't the first time he'd been stabbed and he was pretty certain he would be okay. He just wished he could stop the spinning of the world for just one moment.

He knew he was going to pass out. There was no fighting it for long. He gathered himself and found the strength to talk again. "I love you Gillian. Don't you dare blame yourself for this." The world went black around him.

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Coming along fast now. Won't have long to wait for more, I promise! Love to read reviews even if its constructive criticism...


	5. Chapter 4

**_Get the kleenex now...just a suggestion._**

**_Don't own Lie to Me but man am I enjoying writing about it!_**

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_Don't you dare blame yourself for this._

His words echoed in her ears as she cradled his head in her lap protectively. She kept her hand pressed tightly to the wound at his side.

There was so much blood.

His black shirt glistened around her hand in the light from the florescent bulbs over head and blood soaked between her fingertips. With her free hand she idly stroked his hair, distantly aware of the tears sliding down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth.

Suddenly Claire's face replaced Cal's in her mind and she felt long soft hair sliding between her fingers instead of Cal's short strands. Sirens wailed in the distance, coming closer, becoming a deafening wail as they echoed off the cement walls of the parking garage and still she sat, wearing the blood of two people on her hands.

She heard the sound of car doors and the rattling of a gurney as it approached. Strong hands pried her shaking ones away from the body in her arms.

_Dr. Foster?_

Hearing her name brought her out of her fog and she shook her head, trying to focus on the police officer who had grabbed her by the shoulders and helped her to her feet.

"Y-yes. I'm Gillian Foster," she stammered, drawing in a deep breath as she watched two paramedics transfer Cal onto the gurney and cut his shirt off, revealing the bloody mess of his side. She put a hand to her mouth, holding in a sob as she watched them work on his still form.

She found her voice; willed herself to ask the question she wasn't sure she wanted an answer to. "Is he…is he breathing," the last word exploded from her mouth as a half sob.

"Yes he is. The wound itself is actually not that big, looks like a smaller blade. Keeping pressure on the wound the way you did may have helped save him. He's lost a lot of blood and he may have internal injuries that we can't assess here. He's most likely passed out from the blood loss. Will you be riding in the ambulance?" The paramedic asked.

"I'm afraid I need to ask Dr. Foster some questions while her memory is still fresh. I'll bring her to the hospital as soon as I can." The officer standing next to her interrupted, but she barely heard him.

_He was alive. She had saved him ._She had never heard sweeter words in her life. Her knees buckled as relief washed over her. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as the officer caught her around the waist, holding her up.

"Dr. Foster, could you come with me please. You can have a seat in the squad car."

"I need to be with him," she tried to walk toward Cal's pale form but the officer's arm around her waist stopped her.

"The best thing you can do for him right now is let the paramedics do their job and get him to the hospital right away. I promise this won't take long but our best chance of catching the man who did this is to get a description and put out an APB immediately while he's still in the area."

Gillian looked up at him. What he said made sense but her heart wanted desperately to stay with Cal, as if she could will him to life with her presence. She quickly freed herself from the officer's grasp and ran to the back of the ambulance where they were about to load Cal who was still unconscious. She leaned close to his ear, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "Don't you even think of going anywhere. Do you hear me? There are…things to be said, and I need you," she whispered. She kissed his brow gently and backed away, determined to finish with the officer so she could get to Cal as soon as possible.

They walked to the car where she gave him a shaky description of events as well as a description of the man from the bar and his vehicle. The officer called in the description while she watched more cops cordon off the area with crime scene tape. A young policeman walked over to the squad car where she sat and held out a gun.

"Is this your gun ma'am?" he asked politely.

"No, it's…it's Cal's. I know he keeps one in the glove compartment and I grabbed it when the man…when he…" She couldn't finish that statement. "I know he has a permit for it."

"That's fine ma'am. We're going to take it to the station as part of the investigation but he can come down and claim it if he presents the proper permit." The cop shoved the gun into a plastic baggie and walked away.

"Can we go now?" she asked the officer who had just put down the radio. "I want to be with him."

"Of course we can. I'll let you know if we catch the guy that did this." He started the ignition and they sped from the parking garage. Gillian rode in silence, counting the minutes as streetlights flashed by over head. As soon as they pulled under the portico at the entrance to the hospital she tried to open the door, only to find it locked. The officer quickly came around and opened it for her and she jumped out, not even taking the time to thank him as she ran toward the revolving doors.

Inside she was greeted by an orderly who, quickly realizing she wasn't the one who needed medical attention, directed her to the desk.

"I'm here to see Dr. Cal Lightman. He was brought in by ambulance just a few minutes ago." She rushed the words out to the first person in scrubs she saw, a middle aged African-American woman whose id tag said she was a nurse.

"Let me just check and see if he's in the computer yet." She squinted at the computer screen and scrolled through at, what seemed to Gillian like, a snail's pace. "I'm sorry dear, he's not in the computer yet but if you take a seat I'll go back and check and see if I can get some information for you. What was your name?"

"Dr. Gillian Foster," she replied, willing the woman to move faster. "Please, I just need to be with him."

"I'm sorry but you'll have to wait here." She disappeared behind a set of double doors.

Gillian sat down in the waiting room, unable to help but notice the stares she got from the other people already seated there. She caught a glimpse of herself in the overhead security mirror and realized why. Her face was streaked with blood from Cal's fingertips and her hands that she was clutching tightly in her lap were covered in red. She caught sight of a bathroom and thought about cleaning up but she didn't want to risk missing the nurse so she waited and simply ignored the stares.

She knew she should call Emily or Zoe but she didn't want to call until she had something definitive to tell them. She was still wrestling with the decision when she saw a tall man in a white coat approaching.

"Are you Dr. Foster?" he asked.

She nodded her head, wringing her hands.

"I'm Dr. Fournier, would you like to come with me please?" He turned and began walking to the set of double doors she assumed led back to the patient care area. She passed doctors and nurses hurrying frantically from room to room. Finally the doctor led her to a small, quiet room with a few couches and a telephone and urged her to have a seat.

"I am the doctor who initially assessed Dr. Lightman's wounds when he was brought in. I checked his emergency contact form and he has both you and an Emily Lightman listed. Since you were here I wanted to talk to you first." His tone was gentle and even but she could tell he was leaving something out.

"Is he…is he okay? I mean he's not…" again she couldn't finish her sentence.

"No, Dr. Foster. He's stable at the moment. He lost a lot of blood though and we're giving him transfusions. He hasn't regained consciousness yet which is a little worrisome but not unusual with that much blood loss. Right now we're sending him for some scans to determine if the blade did damage to any of his internal organs and if it did, he'll have to have surgery fairly quickly to make repairs. There's a private restroom through that door so you can get cleaned up," he gestured to a door in the corner of the room. "Is there someone you can call who can wait with you?"

Tears welled up in her eyes again as she thought of the only person she wanted to call in situations like this covered in blood on the cement floor. "Yes," she spoke around the lump in her throat.

"Feel free to use this phone. I'll check back with you once he's back from testing and you should be able to see him assuming there are no further complications."He walked quickly out of the room.

Silence and numbness closed over her again and she made her way to the bathroom. She scrubbed her hands vigorously beneath scaulding water, barely noticing the sting as the water ran red down the drain. She was going to leave the single streak on her face, loathe to wipe away the last feeling of his hand against her skin but she knew she would have to call Emily and she didn't want to alarm the girl with the sight of her father's blood.

Once she had dried herself she popped open her cell and called the first person to come to mind.

"Dr. Foster," Loker's voice answered. "This is a surprise."

"Loker, I need you. Dr. Lightman has…he's been in an accident and I need someone to go pick up Emily and bring her to the hospital without alarming her. Someone she knows and trusts. We're at University Hospital. Can you do that?" She kept her voice as level as possible. The less Loker knew, the easier it would be for him to lie to Emily.

"What should I tell her?" he asked, and she was grateful to him for not asking for more information.

"Tell her he's been in a minor car accident and that everything's fine, they're just running some tests," she said.

"How much of what I'm telling her is the truth?" he pushed.

"Loker…" she warned.

"Fine. I'm leaving right now."

She sighed and sunk back into the couch, letting the numbness settle into her limbs and fog her brain once again. She didn't want to think; didn't want to feel anything until she could see him and touch him and know that he was alright.

She didn't hear the doctor re-enter the room until he cleared his throat. "Dr. Foster?"

She opened her eyes, not even realizing she had closed them, and sat up. She had absolutely no idea how much time had passed. She perched at the edge of the couch, ready to spring up if he said she could see him. "Is he going to be alright?" she asked, not waiting for him to take a seat.

"I have good news. The scans showed that he has no internal organ damage, though the blade did do some muscle and tissue damage that will have to heal slowly. We've repaired what we can and stopped the bleeding but he's really very lucky. It's almost as if the blade went out of its way not to hit anything."

She let his words wash over her; replayed them in her mind to reassure herself that she had heard correctly. "Can I see him?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes, I can take you back now. He's still getting blood and he'll have to stay for a few days to make sure the wound is healing well and doesn't develop an infection. He hasn't regained consciousness yet but we've got him on some pretty heavy pain medication so he may not wake up right away. His EEG was normal though so we're not worried yet." He talked as they walked down a long white corridor lined with rooms. Finally he paused outside a room and opened the door, ushering her inside. "Just ring for the nurse if he wakes up."

She nodded and quickly walked toward the bed in the center of the room. Cal's face was so white, he was almost paler than the sheet he lay on. Blood ran from a bag on a tall pole through a line into his arm. A second IV stand held various bags of fluid and was connected to him through yet another line. He looked so small and frail.

Cal's flamboyant personality always made him seem larger than life and it was so easy to forget what a small frame he really had. She wanted nothing more than to climb into bed beside him and curl her body around his. Instead, she pulled up a chair beside the bed and took his hand, careful not to disturb any of the IV lines. She lowered the bed rail slowly and pulled in as close to the bed as she could, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Still not satisfied, she laid her head against him, listening to the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear.

His heart was so strong. With each beat, she felt her body relax. She felt warmth seep back into her veins for the first time in so long, as if his heart were beating life into her as well. She let the tears flow and realized she wasn't just crying for him. She cried and cried, letting emotion flow over the top of the dams she had built in recent weeks. She cried for Clair. She cried for Cal. She cried for herself and the throbbing ache inside of her. She cried until she felt Cal stir slightly beneath her.

She raised her head to see that he was alert and staring at her with eyes glazed over from pain medications.

"Always breaks my heart when you cry, Gill." His voice was rough, barely a whisper.

"Shh…don't talk too much. There will be time later." She brought his fingers up to her cheek and smiled at him. He used the little strength he had to wipe the tears from her cheeks before his hand fell limply to his side.

"Emily?" he croaked.

"On her way with Loker. I remember you saying Zoe was out of town on business." She stroked his face with her free hand, unable to stop touching him.

"It wasn't your fault Gillian," he said hoarsely.

She didn't respond but her hand ceased its movement against his hairline."I'm going to call the nurse. She wanted to know when you were awake." She suddenly couldn't meet his eyes.

He tried to grab her arm and stop her but she could see he didn't have the strength. As she turned for the call button, Emily burst into the room followed closely by Loker.

"Dad," Emily cried out, rushing to Cal's bedside. "Eli said you were in an accident but I could tell there was something he wasn't telling me." She looked at Gillian.

"Your father was attacked by a man with a knife Em, but he's okay. The doctors say there's no serious damage. He's on a lot of pain medications right now." She tried to hide her guilt.

"I'm fine Emily," Cal said, trying his best to make his voice sound strong. "Just needed a little pick me up and a pint or two and I'll be back to making your life miserable before you know it, darling." He reached his hand to the back of her head. "Can I talk to Loker alone for a minute?"

Loker, who had been standing in the corner unnoticed, was surprised as anyone to hear Cal's request. He stepped forward as both Emily and Gillian looked at him in astonishment before moving away.

"I'll be right outside Dad," Emily said, obviously reluctant to leave his side.

The door closed leaving Loker alone in the room with Cal. Loker moved to the side of his bed when Cal motioned for him, taking up the chair recently vacated by Emily.

"You know how you said you'd do anything to help Gillian?" Cal whispered hoarsely.

"Of course, what do you need me to do?"

"It looks as though they're going to insist on holding me hostage and hooked up to machines for a few days." Cal grunted as he tried to sit up more on the bed.

"You want me to stalk Gillian." Loker finished for him.

"Well, stalk is rather a harsh word. But yeah, basically, don't let her out of your sight. She's starting to come around finally and I need to make sure she doesn't start backsliding on me."

"I've got it." Loker said confidently, standing up. "Is that all?"

A nurse entered the room and began checking Cal's pulse and pupils. She checked his IV sites and his dressings.

"No, thats not all." He lay back against the bed and closed his eyes. "Don't screw up or you're fired."

* * *

**Okay, let me know what you think if you have the time. **


	6. Chapter 5

**It was overwhelmingly felt that I should leave this as the last chapter, which is good because thats the way I wanted it. I've read it over and over a dozen times and if you can think of how to make this chapter a little smoother I'd love to hear it !**

**Thanks again for reading**

**Unfortunately I have no Ownership of Lie To Me or its characters and if I did they would definately have to put it on cable...just sayin'**

* * *

Cal pushed the tray of hospital food away. How they thought it healthy to serve this over processed, over salted food in a hospital was a sad commentary on what passed for nutrition.

He'd been stuck in this place for just over 36 hours and it was time to make a break for it. He pushed the call button and waited impatiently for the nurse to arrive. It didn't take long.

"What is it now Dr. Lightman?" his nurse sighed. She had quickly learned that this patient was going to be a thorn in her side as long as he was assigned to her.

"Yeah, be a doll and call my doctor. I'm checking out. Could you help me get these tubes out of my arms, love?" He made a meaningful gesture toward his IV line.

"Dr. Lightman, the doctor has not cleared you to go home yet. The IV is necessary to give you antibiotics to fight off possible infection," she said in a placid monotone which made it clear she had given this same speech countless times in the last 24 hours.

"Yeah, well I'm a doctor as well and I say I'm ready to go. Besides they make pills. Give me some pills and let me go home." He began pulling tape off his arm.

"Is this because _she_ hasn't been here?" the nurse crossed her arms below her breasts.

"Oh, you're a cheeky one. Listen nurse Ratched, either you take these lines out of I take them out myself."

She rolled her eyes. "Hold on, let me page the doctor." She turned to walk away, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling as she muttered under her breath.

Cal relaxed back against the bed. His side ached like mad but he didn't want to take any more drugs. Last time he'd complained about pain they'd given him a shot of morphine through his IV and, while he enjoyed the pleasant high, he'd woken up 8 hours later feeling groggy and in pain, only to find that Gillian had disappeared.

She hadn't come back since but he'd kept up a steady stream of calls with Loker who said that she was hard at work in the office all day and stayed home all night. He just wished she would come back.

"What seems to be the problem Dr. Lightman?"

Cal looked up as the doctor entered the room.

"I'm checking out with or without your approval so if there's anything I should know, now's the time doc." Cal said as he dragged his IV pole over to a tall cupboard and began pulling out the things Emily had brought for him. At least she had thought to bring pants since they'd had to cut off one of his favorite pair of jeans when they were working on him in the ambulance.

He pulled his pants on, bending awkwardly as he avoided putting pressure on his side. He could feel the stitches straining and the bulky dressing made fastening his jeans difficult so he left the top two buttons of his fly undone.

"Dr. Lightman, you've suffered a significant injury. I would still like to monitor you for at least another 24 hours." The doctor said patiently.

"Well, it's not going to happen so just give me that little piece of paper that says "Against medical advice," write me a prescription for some pills, and I'll be on my way." He sat down on the bed, realizing that putting on socks was a feat beyond his capacity at the moment. Instead, he just slipped his feet in his shoes without bothering. He stared at the doctor and waited for him to flinch.

It wasn't long before the doctor gave in and reached in his pocket to pull out a prescription pad. "Here, take these and get them filled." He turned to the nurse, "take out his IV's and send him packing. When you rip out your stitches playing the hero Dr. Lightman, make sure you call someone else." He turned and walked quickly from the room.

Cal smiled as the nurse handed him the prescriptions and began to remove his IV lines.

"She must be something special." The nurse smiled slightly as she applied a bandage to Cal's forearm.

Cal was quiet for a moment. "She is a bit, yeah," he said quietly.

"Does she know what a pain in the ass you are?"

"You have no idea." He hopped off the bed too fast and paid for it with a sharp twinge in his side. He slowly pulled his t-shirt over his head and grabbed his coat before heading quickly to the door.

* * *

He stopped at home first after calling Emily and leaving her a message telling her he had been discharged. He checked in with Loker and confirmed that Gillian was still busy at the office before shutting himself in the bathroom and washing up as best he could. He decided he had time to take a short nap and stretched out on his bed, thankful to be able to shut his eyes without constant beeping sound of monitors and pagers going off around him.

When he opened his eyes with a start, he found that the room had grown dark. He sat up with a groan. He heard the rattling of pans in the kitchen downstairs and followed the scent of burning toast to find Emily preparing his favorite meal.

"Oi," he said coming down the stairs, "you've burned the toast."

"Deal with it," she smiled at him. Her face took on a more serious expression. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, darling," he walked over and pulled her into a half embrace against his good side, kissing the top of her head.

"Are you going to see her?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Thought I might, yeah. What do you think about that?" he asked, settling down at the counter and digging into the beans on toast.

"I think if you didn't I'd call her and tell her to come over." Her face lit up.

* * *

Cal pulled up in front of Gillian's apartment. He recognized Loker's car in front of him and he could see a silhouette in the driver's seat. He walked around to the front of the car and knocked on the window, obviously startling Loker awake from a nap.

"Dr. Lightman…I was just…I just dozed off for a second I swear. She's fine, I just checked on her a few minutes ago." Eli wiped at his eyes, trying to clear his head of sleep.

"You're relieved Loker. Go home." Cal started to walk away as Loker began rolling up the window. "Loker," he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Eli stuck his head out the window.

"Thanks, mate." He turned without another word and walked toward Gillian's apartment.

* * *

She had wanted to stay with him, really she had. She'd sat by his bed and watched him sleep. She'd held his hand as his body writhed unconsciously against the pain. Every soft groan; every grimace, was simply another reminder that this was her fault.

So she had fled. She buried herself in work while she tried to banish the image of his blood running between her fingers; of his pale face going slack on the grey cement floor of the parking garage.

At least his pain wasn't for nothing. He'd given her the wake-up call she so desperately needed and she had finally admitted that she might need more help coping than she could find in a bottle or in the fleeting affections of strangers.

Night time was the worst. The silence in her apartment left open space for her mind to wander.

The sound of a car door slamming and an engine roaring to life right outside her apartment drew Gillian to her window. She was still on edge from the events of two nights ago and even though she knew that Cal had set Loker as her watchdog, the sound made her nervous. She walked to the window, pulling the curtain out of the way as her breath caught in her throat.

She wasn't prepared to find Cal resuming his position on her front walk.

His posture told her he was still obviously in pain and favoring his wounded side. The arrogant bastard had spent two days in the hospital and the first thing he did was show up on her front porch in the cold. Despite her anger she felt tears welling up as his eyes met hers. She placed her hand on the cool glass and let the tears fall.

* * *

He breathed deep as she approached the window and flinched at the pain in his side.

He saw her tension. He saw the anger flash hotly across her face in the instant before her eyes softened and she placed a palm against the glass. He felt a lump in his throat as tears trailed down her cheeks. Her face behind the glass was painted in sadness and guilt but traces of something else he was unfamiliar with on her crept in on the edges of her pain. He doubted she was even aware of it.

She vanished from the window and a moment later he heard the click of a lock turning. She came out onto the porch, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold. She took a tentative step toward him, obviously struggling with something, and then rushed to his side, pulling up short just in front of him before she gently folded him in her arms, mindful of his wounds.

He sighed against her, breathing in her familiar comforting scent.

She pulled back finally and he waited for her to take the lead. "Come inside," she said. It wasn't an offer.

She took his coat and he flinched as she helped him out of it slowly.

Together they walked into her living room and took up positions facing each other on the couch. She stared down at her lap where her hands lay delicately folded.

He waited for her to speak, knowing she had to be the one to start the conversation if it was going to happen. He lost track of the minutes; watched her gather herself to speak over and over again before she finally looked up at him, silent tears slipping slowly down her cheeks.

"Can I…Can I see it?" she asked softly.

He nodded, raising the hem of his shirt slightly and pulling at the tape and gauze. He revealed a puckered red line held together tightly with more stitches than she could count. The cut itself measured only 2 inches or so in length.

"So small," she breathed, "for so much blood." She looked up at him sadly and he re-secured the bandage and dropped his shirt. She had needed to see his body beginning to heal itself; needed proof that wounds could heal with time.

"I'm so sorry Cal," she whispered finally.

"Hey, that's not what I want to hear from you. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about." His voice was harsher than he had intended but he needed to get his point across.

"But I…" she tried.

"But nothing, love. How many years have you spent cleaning up my mess Gill? 'Bout time I took a turn wouldn't you say?" He ran a hand gently down her arm and she shivered.

"You could have been killed."

"Nah, my skin's too tough for that. Just a scratch really. Believe me, love, I've been hurt worse." He thought he saw the corner of her mouth quirk in the beginnings of a smile but it disappeared again all too quickly.

She was silent for a moment as she stared at her lap, uncertain how to begin the next part of the conversation. "You said you loved me," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"Yes I did," he answered simply, reaching out a hand to cup her chin as he forced her to meet his eyes.

"You said you were in love with me Cal, not once but twice," she pressed, searching his face for some sort of answer.

"I did, and as I remember you told me to sod off, as well you should. Of course you tried to take advantage of me first so really I think I came out on top." He tried to make light of things, not sure he wanted her to examine her feelings for him in her current state of mind.

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. He saw the pain and sadness written so plainly on her face that the ache in his chest easily overshadowed the ache in his side.

"How do you live with it Cal?" she whispered

"What are we talking about exactly?" He wanted to let her come to it on her own.

"The guilt? The emptiness? The blood on your hands? I just have to know that there's…that there's more than this. How did you find it again?" There was something desperate in her voice. At least this time she was looking in the right place.

"That's easy, love. I had you." He stroked the side of her face with his thumb.

His voice had taken on that velvety soft quality she so rarely heard and she felt fresh tears well up. "I'm such a mess Cal."

"I know, love. I'm just glad you've finally realized it. Saves me being the only one." He smiled at her and this time she smiled at him through her tears.

"I saw a counselor today," she admitted.

"Finally, now I can get some sleep. I'm not as young as I used to be Gillian and honestly, my knees are killing me after last week," he chuckled, leaning back against the couch dramatically.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but can you at least try to take this seriously?" She rolled her eyes.

He sat up again, ignoring the pain as he looked directly into her eyes. "Did you think I was joking when I stood outside your apartment for eight consecutive nights? Did you think I wasn't serious when I said I loved you?"

His sudden intensity frightened her and she shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know what I feel right now Cal," she said honestly. "I think the first rule in situations like these is not to jump into anything too quickly isn't it?"

"Somehow I don't think anyone would consider eight years to be too quick Gillian," he answered.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"I do, love." He reached out and took her hand in his.

"I'm so tired of feeling numb all the time Cal. The only time I've felt anything other than sadness and guilt in the last few weeks is when I've been with you."

"And then what do you feel?" He stroked her hand with his thumb.

"Anger, mostly," she smiled.

"Ouch," he stilled the movement of his hand.

"At least it's something. When I sat with you in the hospital and they told me you were going to be alright, I felt warmth inside for the first time in so long." She fought back more tears, determined to shut off the waterworks for the night.

"So how long does this jumping ban last?" he pressed.

"I honestly don't know Cal." She let him study her face; see the truth in her words.

"Well, that's good because my doctor has strictly instructed me not to engage in jumping of any kind for at least four weeks." He moved slowly to the edge of the couch, raising himself up with a grimace.

"You're not going to go stand outside my apartment again are you?" she rolled her eyes.

"Nah…I think you're safely out of the woods, love, but if this relationship is going to continue to work only one of us is allowed to screw up at time, and I think we can both agree that most of the time it's going to be me, alright?" He looked down to where she still sat on the couch. "What is it Gillian?" he asked, sensing that she was mulling something over in her mind.

"If I tell you something nice, will you promise not to be all…_you _about it?" she asked hesitantly.

"No promises, but give it a shot."

"I liked knowing you were out there every night. You made me feel…safe…from myself," she admitted.

"Do you want me to stay Gillian?" he asked seriously, sitting on the arm of the couch and placing a hand on her shoulder.

She covered his hand with hers. "What about Emily?" she asked.

"I'll call her. She'll be ecstatic."

"Thank you Cal." She looked up at him with something more than relief in her eyes and stood to embrace him, careful not to squeeze too hard.

* * *

An hour later, Cal lay staring at the ceiling of Gillian's guest bedroom. He'd gotten up to take some pain medication a few minutes ago and was waiting for it to kick in so he could get some sleep. He wasn't a fan of pills but he had pushed himself more that he should have and was paying dearly. He heard the soft creak of a door opening and Gillian crept slowly into the room.

"I heard you get up. Are you alright?" The genuine concern in her voice was clear.

"Fine, darling, just a bit stiff. I was having a hard time getting to sleep so I took something." He tried to make his voice light, even though every breath sent pain shooting through his side.

"You're lying."

"Yeah. Is it working?" he tried.

"Can I do anything for you?" She wanted desperately to make his pain go away, feeling the guilt wash over her again.

"Stay here and distract me until the drugs knock me out?" he ventured.

"Can you move over just a little without too much pain?" she asked, moving toward the bed.

"I think I can manage." He opened a space beside him on the on the side away from the wound. The ribs on that side were just mildly bruised.

She climbed in beside him and slid beneath the covers, slowly moving up the side of his body. She was careful to avoid putting pressure on any of the areas she knew to be sore as she placed a hand on his chest and lay her head on the pillow next to his.

He turned his head to face her, darkness blindfolding him. She was so close that he felt her warm breath against his lips and he closed his eyes, allowing his body to experience her through his other senses. The heat of her body was soothing and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as her fingers moved against his bare chest. He heard her breath hitch slightly and he moved a fraction of an inch, enough to bring his lips in contact with hers. He didn't move. He simply let his mouth linger against hers in the darkness.

She felt heat flood her body at the feather soft touch of his lips. She hesitated a moment before her body reacted instinctively and she opened her mouth to him, sliding her lips against his slowly before capturing his bottom lip between her own. She could tell he was letting her take the lead in this tentative exploration and she pressed into him a little more, increasing the depth of their kiss as she moved her hand to his face, pulling him into her. She let her tongue trace the inside of his lower lip and trembled when his tongue stroked softly against hers. She felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her palm and remembered his injuries. She pulled back from him slightly, breathing shallowly as she stroked the shell of his ear and the contour of his jaw.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked.

" Are you kidding? That was the most pleasant distraction I've ever had." His voice had taken on a heavy quality and she could tell his pain meds must be kicking in.

"No jumping okay?" She whispered.

"Certainly not tonight, love," he drawled as his breathing grew heavy and even.

As he drifted off to sleep she laid her head gently against the side of his chest, listening to the steady and strong beat of his heart as she felt radiant warmth begin to drive the heavy numbness from her body.

* * *

~Fin~


End file.
